


From the Smoke and Embers

by GirlUnderTheSun



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abuse, Eventual Smut, F/M, Kylo ren fucking with y/n, Some angst and enemies to lover, Star Wars - Freeform, Torture, not sure what to tag, will add more tags as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:49:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlUnderTheSun/pseuds/GirlUnderTheSun
Summary: Escaping Chandrilla was just the beginning, you decided to leave your parents and abandon your family's heritage of becoming apart of the Senate. You leave the planet with a crew on their way to D'Qar. Your plans go awry when the cruiser is suddenly attacked. Your journey finally begins, though it is not anywhere near what you imagined it would be.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, this is my first fanfic, which is being written as I go. So please bear with me while I get into the swing of this! I appreciate any comments that you have! It is a short chapter. So in conclusion, please enjoy and thank you for reading!

One

You wished that you could say that it had hurt leaving, that this would be a place and time in your life that you would miss. But it hadn’t. It had felt almost freeing in a way, stepping into the cruiser and the doors slowly closing behind you. It was as though they were closing a chapter of your life. You swung your bag over your shoulder and took one last look at Hanna City. The sun had begun to set, pinks and golds radiated through the clouds and streaking the sky, bouncing spectacularly across the skyscrapers. It was beautiful. But it hadn’t been beautiful to you. You turned as the doors closed and walked towards the crew that had begun their preparations for departure. It was medium sized transport ship, designated for cargo more than human transportation, but it was your best option. Hanna City was once a bustling centre for the New Republic, but now most of the ships that arrived were for transporting government officials off world to the New Republic located in the Hosnian System or transports providing aid to the Resistance. And those had been your options too. To join your parents in the Hosnian System to take your place in the Senate or to leave. You twisted the handle of your bag. Maybe you had wished that it has been a hard decision, that it would hurt to leave.

“Y/N”. You focused your eyes from your reverie. The man that had called your name, Val, was pointing to a corridor to the left. He had been the one to accept you on board the mission when everyone else had objected. You came to them with no practical experience for this type of work, with nothing but your belongings and a wish to leave. Maybe he could see the desperation on your face. Maybe he knew that you would do anything, or maybe he had known that feeling once too.

“That way’s where you’ll find the cots, go and choose one of the empty ones.” You nodded and began moving to where he had directed. He placed his hand on your shoulder as you passed him, “take as much time as you need settling in.” He spoke softly and squeezed his hand gently. Reassurance and empathy, something you hadn’t felt in a while. You could feel it in his eyes as they crinkled into a soft smile. “And put something warm on, that’s if you have anything. Space gets cold.”

You nodded again, a quiet thank you leaving your lips and he released you. Moving further into the hallway, you heard him bellow. “Or use a blanket, kid!” A small smile crept at the edges of your mouth, it had been so long since someone had actually taken an interest in your wellbeing. You had forgotten how it felt.

You finally reached an opening to a large space filled with beds and belongings. It was nothing special and very basic, but to this crew it would be home. Twelve cots were spread through the room and you could see one empty cot against a glass panel, providing a view to the outside. Maybe it would a nice place to view the galaxy from once you left Chandrilla. You removed your datapad from your bag, tossing the bag under the bed and tucking the datapad under your pillow. You pressed your hand into the mattress and heard the creak of the springs, cringing at the sound. Your bed had been much more lavish than this, in all honesty, your life was privileged. “Your old life.” You corrected out loud. Sighing you lowered yourself into the cot, the springs hissing in protest. At least the pillow was soft, your head sinking into the foam. A voice crackled through the room, Val. “Prepare for departure in 5, buckle up!” The announcement went quiet for a moment and suddenly broke through the silence again, “oh Y/N, there’s a buckle under your cot. Strap in. Val out.”

You reached under your cot with both hands, patting down the mattress until your arms grazed dangling straps. You buckled the strap around your waist and pulled tight. The anxiety slowly started to seep into your bones, you had never been off world, never travelled in space. Vibrations began to cross the ship as you gripped the edges of your cot tightly. A feeling of regret passed through you as you realised how constrained your life had been, just how much had you missed? Your whole body bounced in your cot, the vibrations intensifying until you could feel the ship pulling away from the ground, gravity slowly pulling you deeper into the mattress. All too quickly the ship grew darker and the vibrations ceased. You laid there for a moment contemplating whether to remove the buckle which was now digging deeply into your skin. Your fingers tightly wrapped against the edges of your cot began to relax, the bones stiff. You grazed the metal clasp of the buckle and you took a breath letting the clasp fall open, the ends of the buckle collecting on the fall with a crack. It took courage for you to peel yourself out of the cot to a sitting position. Eyes closed you imagined how you thought the space surrounding Chandrilla would look, how the planet would glow in the darkness.

You opened your eyes and looked out the glass. Your eyes felt too small, your view too narrow to take in such enormity. It was darker than you had thought it would be, there were less stars than you had imagined. But Chandrilla, Chandrilla was magnificent. You pressed your hands to the glass as the planet grew smaller and smaller. How much had you missed by just existing back there? Through letting yourself be a puppet for what others wanted? You had held that pain for some time now, brewing deep inside you and now it felt closer to the surface than ever before. Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. How much of your life had you sacrificed to them, how much time had already slipped through your fingers, time that you could never get back? Your tears were free-flowing now, dripping down your chin and neck. No matter how much you gave, you had never been enough. And you never would be. You lifted your eyes back to Chandrilla, but it was gone. It was gone.

“He was right,” you murmured, a small chuckle escaping. “Space is cold.” You pushed yourself up out of your cot and pulled the blanket from the mattress. This would have to do. You wrapped it around your shoulders and began walking to the deck. You stepped into the threshold, Val stood speaking with another crewmate.

“Y/N, how was that?” He asked, excitement and anticipation rolled off of him as he ran his hand through his long dark hair, eyes crinkling from the smile.

“Um, it wasn’t too bad actually. I didn’t realise that ship would shake though.” You ran you hand soothingly across your neck. His laugh filled the space as the other crew chuckled.

“Well, I am at least hoping you didn’t vomit in my ship.” He stared at you then, becoming suddenly serious.

“No, no of course not!” You threw your hands out in protest and again the cabin filled with laughter. They were teasing you. Well, you definitely weren’t on Chandrilla anymore. In all honesty, you weren’t used to this type of interaction. You were used to quiet civility and contempt, but that was politics after all. You smiled and let out a small laugh.

“Ah I see.” You said. “So, how long until we arrive in D’Qar?” You had agreed to joining the ship without really knowing what they were doing or where they were going. All you knew was that they were transporting medical supplies to D’Qar, which was located in the Outer Rim. This had been perfect for you, you couldn’t really get any further than the Outer Rim. Not that you thought they would search for you, but just in case. The Galaxy was vast, but if you had stayed in the Core Worlds there was every possibility that they could find you and drag you back to take up the ceremonial cloth that was the Senate seat.

“Well the Illenium System is pretty far, so by my calculations we should be there within a few hours.” You nodded and took a seat on the lounge against the wall. Only a few hours until your new beginning awaited. You felt the lounge dip as one of the crew took a seat next to you. You flicked your eyes to the side to see the female appraising you.

“So, why’d you want to leave Chandrilla?” You turned to full face her then. Her bluntness took you by surprise. Her chestnut hair was braided in a complicated spiral at the crown of her head and to compliment her hair, her lips were brown red and eyes hazel gold.

You cleared your throat and squared your shoulders, “I’d love to know the name of the person I will be speaking to, if you would be so kind as to offer it?” You let a smile melt across your face. Maybe she would soften with sincerity. She didn’t, her meeting smile was tight. She didn’t like to be challenged or she didn’t like false civility.

“The name’s Carmen Vys, now are you going to cut the shit and answer the question?” She paused for a moment, mumbling, “Fucking Chandriallans.”

You turned your head, looking for Val, but he was still occupied with the other crew members. There was no-one that was going to help you now, but you knew this when you left home. You were on your own now and needed to take ownership of your own ground. You turned back to Carmen.

“You’re not wrong about Chandrillians.” You sighed, knotting and unknotting your hands. She continued to stare at you, her eyes moving across your face.

“I left Chandrilla to escape my family.” Hearing the words leave your lips for the first time felt removed somehow, like it wasn’t you saying it. It felt utterly empty. She flicked her eyes back to yours and silence began to seep in.

“Did they mistreat you?” Her voice was quieter now, softer. You looked away from her for a moment, they hadn’t really been bad to you, they hadn’t ever laid a hand on you and you had wanted for nothing. But life had been empty, you were only there for what they needed and that was no life worth living.

“They were good to me. I shouldn’t really complain. I had a good life with them.” You said, a small chuckle escaping. Her face turned puzzled, eyebrows raised.

“Then why did you leave?” She probed. Why had you left after all? The question floated in your mind, but the answer was too complex, the issues too many and too large. But there was only one true catalyst for your leaving.

“I couldn’t be what they wanted.” You let your eyes drop from hers then, their gold too searching. You concentrated on your hands, pushing down the cuticles on your fingers. You felt a hand on your shoulder then, you knew it was hers.

“What did they want?” All hardness had left her voice then. You could feel her sincerity even if you knew that it wouldn’t show on her features. What your parents wanted was something that you could never be. They wanted you to become a part of the family dynasty, the Senate. They wanted you to replace him, shoes that you could never fill.

“They wanted me to be my brother.” You took a staggered breath. “He died a couple of years ago and was training to be a Senator. He was brilliant.” He was like the sunrise on a misty morning, he brought warmth and light to everything that he touched. And you, you couldn’t match that intensity. Your light couldn’t be seen with such brightness already burning, and so you just let yourself become dull, invisible, nothing. It was sudden, Torin’s death. A freak accident and suddenly he was gone. You could still remember interrupting his readings in the library of your apartment, breaking his study to ask inane questions about the New Republic and the rumours surrounding Princess Leia and her father Vader. He was always so open and accepting, never criticising your questions, never criticising you. He would close the book he had been immersed in, placing it down on the thick wood desk and lean back in his chair. Running his fingers though that fiery red hair, he would laugh at you, his voice soft as he would say “Sit, my little Senator”. You really did miss him, you missed the gentleness that he gave so willingly and after he died you craved it. It was something your parents could never provide, too driven with power and desire to see you as anything but a pawn, a tool to be used for their benefit. How had he managed it?

Carmen moved her hand over yours, your fingers stopping their rhythmic movements. “Look,” she paused, “I am not really good with emotions and well…I guess what I am trying to say is screw em’ and become all that you want to be.” She plastered a tight smile on her face, smoothing her thumb across your cheek. “No need to get teary, jeez.” She smiled again. You hadn’t realised that tears had started, it had been some time since you had cried so freely in front of anyone. Maybe being away was finally loosening the tight control you had to keep on yourself. Freeing, it was freeing.

“Sorry”, the apology was glossed with a smiled. “I’m not good at emotions either.” She slapped you across the back then, a sting ricocheting across the area.

“Alright then, well I have duties to attend to, unless you wanted to join?” She stood then, placing a hand on her hip and smoothing a wayward piece of hair in her fringe. She really was sweet under that tough exterior, even with her clear uncomfortableness with any type of expression, so much so that she couldn’t even look at you in this moment.

“Actually, that would be great.” You stood to, brushing at your pants, “what are we doing then?”

Carmen directed you through the ship and down a small ramp to the cargo section. She described the ship as we traversed it, not that your really understood, but you nodded and commented in all the right places which made her happy. She was very at ease with this life, she spoke animatedly about what lead her to working on the cruiser, which was called _Skybreaker_. She had left home when she was young and joined a smugglers ring. Her life had deteriorated doing that type of work and quickly she was being consumed by debt. Val had found her beaten in the streets of Tatooine, creditors coming to cash in on her debts. She escaped with him and had worked with him ever since. When you looked at her though, you couldn’t see the hard life that she had lived. She still looked and sounded young as though her past hadn’t left too many visible marks, though maybe a slight roughness to her personality and voice. But underneath would surely be a much different story. Carmen stopped in the cargo bay and pointed to the various crates that were scattered around the area.

“Okay, so we are going to double check inventory. You take that side.” She pointed to the right and thrust a datapad into your chest. You gripped the pad as she pulled away. “You will need to use that.” She separated from you then, and you made your way towards your designated cargo.

Bringing the datapad to life, you could see that there were over one hundred items within the crates that required checking. The counting was monotonous, but at least there was nothing sinister within the crates, just medical supplies. You hadn’t asked very many questions when you sought Val’s help to leave Chandrilla, so it was a relief to know that there weren’t weapons being transported on the ship. Even though he had said there would only be medical supplies, in your gut it was still hard to trust anyone. Two hours later and the count was finished. Carmen finished before you and started to help count your section with you. She never commented though to say that you were too slow or that you weren’t performing the task to her standard. It was a change to what you were used to, no criticisms or disapproving sighs and glances, it was nice.

“Done.” You said with an audible sigh.

Carmen smiled and patted you on the back, “That wasn’t too..” Suddenly an alarm began to blare, screaming into your ears.

“What’s that?” You said, panic edging its way up your throat. Was the cruiser malfunctioning? Your worst thought was being trapped in space. “Is it the ship?” Carmen gripped your arm and began pulling you out of the cargo bay.

“We need to haul ass, now.” The alarm continued to boom throughout the cruiser, through every corridor and every room, there was no escaping its guttural screeching.

“Carmen what’s happening?” She didn’t answer and just kept pulling you, until finally you were in back on the deck. She released you then and pushed down into the closest seat. No-one addressed you, it was like your weren’t even there, but the panic of the crew was clear. Hushed voices filled the small space, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. Some moved around between different stations and screens. You could see red lighting up the panel out towards the vast blackness of space. The alarm continued to blare, flaring your anxiety further. And to add to that, no one was explaining anything to you, you just sat like an infant watching their parents try and solve the problem in front of them. You could feel the fear boiling in your gut, ready to explode.

“Can someone please tell me what is going on?” You said, a little too loudly, pushing out of your seat. The whole crew turned to face you, and finally you saw Val staring at you. His face was inscrutable. It was bad, you realised.

“Carmen.” He turned to her then, “can you take Y/N to the pods?” Carmen nodded and let out a quick formal acknowledgement of the order she had been given.

“Everyone else, take your positions. Its going to be bumpy”. Carmen was once again taking your arm and pulling you at her whim.

“No.” You said loudly, “you need to tell me what’s happening?” Your voice grew higher, the non-response from Carmen bringing you closer to the edge. “Carmen!” You yelled.

She stopped, turning to you suddenly. “We are going to the escape pods Y/N. We are jettisoning you to the nearest colonised planet. Lastly, we don’t have time for this, he’s coming.” She turned before you could gather your thoughts, dragging you again through the ship. Who’s coming? You thoughts scrambled for an answer. The ship was only carrying medical supplies, who would attempt to hijack a ship carrying that type of cargo? You began to round a corner with an arrow painted on the wall directing you to the escape pods. Not far now, you guessed, a small amount of relief moved across your body like a wave.

Quickly, before you could react, the ship violently jolted. The impact hit you before you could brace for it. Carmen’s grip had released you as you were thrust across the space into the air, your head connecting with the wall and the rest of your body following it. The crack of your skull echoed in your ears, falling to the floor hard you crumpled like paper. The pain was excruciating, as if fire was burning under your skin and deep into your bones. A scream ripped from your throat, tears forming in your eyes. You could smell burning metal filling the small corridor, the vapours of it billowing in with smoke and embers.

With every effort you angled your body so that your chin rested on the floor. Your body screaming with pain, recoiling from the movement with nerves that felt like they were on fire. You searched for Carmen with your eyes, her leg visible from a doorway, unmoving. A small shifting in the smoke caught your attention, flicking your eyes towards the movement. It was as though the smoke and flashes of fire were moving away from themselves, away from the gashing hole that had been torn into the cruiser. You focused your eyes through the blur that glazed them, the smoke induced tears that brimmed at the edges. A figure slowly begun emerging through the blackness, almost blending into it, as though it was made from all that was dark and fiery. All too slowly the realisation lulled into your mind, like a wave finally meeting the shore. You knew who this was. The black mask and garb shifting through the wall of fire and smoke. It was him. It was death.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I apologise that it has taken me some time to post this chapter. I kept playing with it for a while and work was crazy before Christmas.
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this chapter, please let me know your thoughts in the comments!
> 
> Much love! x
> 
> **Just a quick note that I have editted this chapter from when I first posted, the line breaks I had didn't copy over when I first posted, so now they are in there!**

Asphyxiation. It would be quicker, less painful and mostly, it would be on your terms. You would rather end it this way then meet your fate at his hands. The plumes of smoke were at your face now, coating the floor in a thick wave. You breathed deeply, welcoming the ashy demise, letting the smoke deep into your lungs and holding there for as long as you could stand its fiery burn. It had become so very hard to breathe, the weight on your chest, the burning in your lungs burned brighter than any of the embers raining down around you. But even in this moment, you knew it wouldn’t take long for death to consume you and you welcomed it. You had heard the stories of the First Order, the whispers that passed in the halls of the Senate. It felt as though the First Order touched every part of political society now, even creeping into your own home. You remembered the hushed tones between your parents and the datapads being hidden from view when the First Order were first gaining power, and finally the petitions pushed in the Senate halls to prepare for their eventual rise.

You had enough knowledge from your own experiences in the Senate, through your education and association with that side of society to know just how deadly they were and just how much they resembled that fallen Empire from long ago. You knew this death would be better. But somehow still your body fought it, instinctually feared the end. Your fingers clawed at your throat, saliva foaming from your mouth, retching at the air you were taking into your body. Even through all this, all this chaos that was riddling your entire being, even through your deteriorating vision, you could still see him advancing on you. There was no questioning the pulse of that crossaber. The blinding red shone so brilliantly against the black of the smoke and raging orange of the inferno that you almost believed it could be described as somewhat beautiful. A beautiful chaos, and it was coming for you.

You watched his boots marching closer to you, and you believed you could feel the vibration of his steps through the floor, traveling through your body. The anxiety in your chest bloomed as he paused for a moment. You watched as he began to turn his body away from you, something more pressing garnering his attention, his mask shifting to the left. Realisation slowly trickled into your smoke wrangled brain, Carmen. It was Carmen.

You had forgotten, so blinded by your own terror that she was still unconscious and breathing the same poisoned air as you. You didn’t even know if she was alive. Her leg, which has been laying so still, so peacefully, slowly began to rise. The fear that had been turning in the pit of your stomach began to subside, letting relief creep its way in. Your thoughts lightened, she was okay, she was moving. You watched as her leg disappeared from view and her body pulled out of the doorway. But it wasn’t how your mind had imagined it would be. You couldn’t hear her movements and she wasn’t saying anything. Even from your short time with her you knew that she wouldn’t just sit there in front of Kylo Ren compliant, she would have charged at him, fought with everything in her to not just be taken by the First Order.

But, that had been the scenario you imagined in your mind, it wasn’t the reality that slowly began to crack at your illusion. With deliberate slowness, her body came to view floating mid air, hanging by some unnatural force. Relief that has spread into your chest began to recede, with horror blazing in its place. She hadn’t moved at all, she wasn’t even awake, she wasn’t doing this. It was him.

“No!” You felt yourself scream. But it came out choked and twisted. Pathetic, your attempt would do nothing, you couldn’t do anything. You felt your stomach tighten, you hadn’t even thought of Carmen when you began breathing in the smoke, letting yourself succumb and welcoming death with open arms. You had been selfish, so very selfish. All to escape a fate you believed would be worst than death, but what about her? Heat rose in your cheeks and moisture collected in your eyes, or was it just the next stages of this slow path to the end. He turned his face to you then and you wished you could see his face, analyse his features, anticipate anything. Weakness seemed to take hold of your body, you couldn’t find your muscles. There would be no running, not that you even could, you couldn’t even crawl if you wanted to. Would he kill you now? He turned back to her then and in the corner of your eye, two troopers appeared from the same place he had made his entrance.

“Take her to the ship. Have her ready for questioning.” His voice snapped through the modulator. Whatever force was holding Carmen suddenly released and she dropped to the floor with a type of crack that sent a terrible shiver through you, her body landing so unnaturally that bile started to rise from your stomach and a scream ripping from your throat. She was so vulnerable, so broken and you could do nothing but watch. Was she like that before he got to her, or had the fall done that? The troopers pulled at her arms, lifting her from the floor. Her head hung back as they dragged her away through the torn metal of the cruiser. You were now alone, no one else seemed to be coming to save you. It would you just be you and him.

He flexed his arm that had been outstretched to Carmen, holding her with his powers you supposed, the fingers on that hand clenching and unclenching until he dropped it at his side. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the contempt emanating from his being.

“I can feel it,” he mused, “your fear of being taken alive.” His voice was calm when he turned, crossaber thrumming as he slowly stalked toward you. You did fear it, and most of all, you feared him. You tried to move, tried to push yourself away from him, but your body felt so very far away and completely detached from you. The oxygen had become too thin for you to react to him, consciousness feeling further and further from your grasp.

“You should fear me.” He paused as his boots were now inches away from your face. You watched as he then crouched down, placing his free hand in your now loosened hair. He gripped the strands then, the sound of his leather gloves tightening. The chill from his touch rippled through you, the tightness sending a thrum of pain through your skull. You knew that you had hit your head hard and were certain that there would be some kind of wound there. This was confirmed when you felt him pull your head from the floor so that your face met his masked one, the skin pulling at wrong angles under his grasp. Pain blossomed and a scream tore from deep in your chest, weak and choked.

“I will pull every Resistance plan from your mind before I am finished with you.” His hiss was caught in the voice modulator, but you felt its force all the same. You couldn’t tell if it was hatred or anticipation, but it sent waves of nausea through your stomach. But his statement struck you, confusion clouding your already muddled mind. You weren’t with the Resistance. You were not affiliated with any group or faction other than the Chandrillan Senate. And even then, those two concepts were not related. He couldn’t know that you were even from Chandrilla. You couldn’t put any more energy toward his words, you couldn’t even string reality together as darkness purred at the corners of your vision. It was becoming so very dark and you felt too heavy, too tired. Your body was suddenly being shifted, carried maybe, feeling your head dangling unnaturally. You watched as the hallway slowly slipped away, the directions for the escape pods growing fainter and fainter in your eyes. And finally, the darkness consumed you whole as you slipped under it, welcoming its dark embrace.

* * *

Warmness slowly sunk into your skin and moved across your body. It felt like the sun you thought, but it scratched at your veins, creeping from the top of your head to your toes. Voices hummed and echoed through your mind, but you couldn’t make out their words. Were you asleep, you felt as though you were, tiredness leaking into your muscles and mind. The warmth continued to surround you, feeling the softness against your skin.

“Y/N.” The chatter that had been buzzing now focussed to one voice. It was familiar and warm, so warm.

“Y/N, you need to open your eyes.” The voice said, but you couldn’t find your eyes. You realised that you couldn’t feel your body. You focussed again on the voice, its notes continuing to resonate with you.

“My little Senator.” Realisation hit you hard, Torin. You felt your body become whole and full, arms pressing against a desk. You were in the library again, you were home. You felt a blanket slip from your shoulders, focussing your eyes on the figure in front of you. He stood before you then, the length of the desk the only barrier between you. He looked as he had back then, hair shining a beautiful crimson and eyes greener than the Chandrillan forests. His robes clung against his chest, flowing past his hips and ending just before his knees. The fabric was a beautiful array of greens, complex gold stitching patterned the tunic, with black pants finishing his attire. You stared at him for a moment, the image of him overwhelming your mind. He looked so alive, like the hand of death had never touched him. You felt tears at the corners of your eyes, it felt like the past had been erased as he stood there, the abandonment you had felt from his death smaller, the pressure of becoming your family’s successor non-existent. He ran a hand through his hair, forehead creasing.

“What’s wrong Torin?” You said, your voice thin and airy. He dropped his hand from his head.

“You know what’s wrong.” A sigh slipped from his lips, “you’ve made a mistake, you miscalculated and now there’s a problem that you didn’t factor would occur.” You knew this couldn’t be real, could feel its detachment from reality. You were dreaming. He wasn’t real. He never would be again.

“I know.” You placed your fingers against your temples, the tips sliding into your hair. “I don’t know what to do.” The muscles in your chest began to tighten, breathing becoming a little more difficult. Torin moved then, edging around the desk until he was standing beside you, kneeling with a hand on your back.

“I need you to breathe, Y/N”. You let his voice wash over, his hand stroking steady movements across your back. “You shouldn’t have left Chandrilla when you did.” He sighed and you felt the lump form in your throat, already present tears threatening to spill. Was he disappointed in you? You couldn’t feel it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. It felt like your parent’s disappointment all over again, overwhelming your mind, and mostly, your heart. It hurt. “But you did, and now you are going to have to get through this.” He lifted his hand from your back, lifting one of your hands from your face. You flicked your eyes to him, meeting his gaze.

“I’m just always going to be such a disappointment, aren’t I?” The ragged laugh left your throat, brokenness leaking from your voice, leaking from every part of you. His hand tightened around yours.

“I never said that, Y/N.” He rubbed his hand across yours. “You are not a disappointment, nor are you weak for wanting to escape. Leaving Chandrilla was inevitable for you, but you didn’t choose your timing right. You were impatient and impulsive. You should have waited.” He shook his head then, his lips lifting into a smile. “But, regardless of that, you were never meant for the life of a Senator. So, the disappointment you feel in yourself is ill-founded and misplaced. I can feel it in you, it's eating you alive.” He brushed his free hand over your head in a soothing motion. “You are meant for so much more than that.” His eyes seemed to sparkle then, a kind of life behind them twinkling and you felt your chest tightening as emotions spilled free. Tears streamed freely down your cheeks, over your chin and down your neck, chest heaving violently as you sobbed.

“I’m so sorry.” You choked out, dropping your eyes to the floor. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to serve your memory well, that I couldn’t make you proud.” He placed his arms around you then, the warmth of his touch shocking you.

“Joining the Senate and following in my footsteps was not serving my memory. I never wanted that for you. I didn’t even want it for myself.” You felt your vision shake then, the room moving slightly and coldness entering your body.

Confusion washed over you as you met his gaze again, “what’s happening Torin?”

He released you from his embrace and moved his eyes across the room. You felt the absence of his touch immediately, your heart twisting knowing that you probably wouldn’t feel it again.

“We don’t have much time left, you need to listen to me Y/N. What you will experience is hard, but you will get through this. You are strong. Trust in yourself, promise me you will trust in yourself.” You stared at him, and slowly nodded your head. He placed his hand on your head again, brushing across your hair. He placed so much faith in you, he always had. His voice suddenly became distant and your thought he had said something in agreement. Emotion gripped your chest, he was leaving you again.

* * *

You awoke with a jolt, your body lurching forward. Pulling in a deep choked breath, your lungs ached and scratched, sending you into a coughing fit. The last thing you remembered was blackness and Torin. The hardness of the pseudo concrete bed and the greyness of the room slowly crept into your awareness, along with a pounding headache. Instinctively, you reached your fingers to the back of your scull, the wound had clotted. Looking at the space, you knew you weren’t on the cruiser anymore and you suddenly grew very still. Where were you? How did you get here? Images bounced at the precipice of your mind, faint and distorted, so much so that you creased your forehead and tightened your eyes to try and see them clearer. You remembered the alarm from the cruiser, its sharp pitch making your ears ache. You remembered Carmen pulling you through the cruiser. An explosion. Him. The breath you were holding escaped, sharply. You placed your hands at either side of you, the coldness of the cot settling over your palms. This couldn’t be happening, feeling the denial clouding your thoughts.

You moved from your position then, standing in the room, turning in a circle to take in your surroundings. No, this couldn’t be happening. There were no windows in this grey room, it could barely be called a room, a box felt more fitting. There was only one source of escape, you fixed your eyes on the one door that stood between you and your freedom. It was no more than two large steps away from your cot. You placed your hands on it, the cold steel leaching into your palms, the skin tingling.

“I can’t be trapped here.” You whispered aloud. “I can’t.” Digging your nails into the metal, you scrapped them down as you curled onto the floor, its hardness rough against your bones.

“I can’t.” The whisper of your voice echoed in the small space. You felt yourself rocking, your mind closing in on itself just like the walls around you. You should have never left Chandrilla. Never. Torin had been right.

* * *

You didn’t know how long it had been since you arrived, wherever you were. Time seemed to just slip through your fingers. The minutes, the hours, the days, they were all a blur now. Without any view to the outside world the whole concept of time seemed to die, replaced by a vortex of nothingness. No-one had visited your cell, and if anyone did, it was for the delivery of food only. And you couldn’t even call that a visit with food being pushed through a slot under the door. And even that was not consistent, so you couldn’t even use that to try and track just how long you had been here.

All this time, this emptiness, it had started to make its mark on your soul. When the dark of the cell has slowly started to sweep into your mind, the thoughts swirled deep into your waking hours and sleeping. In your sleep, you clawed at your dreams, nightmares that tasted of dark power and pain, immense pain that felt unlike you. During your waking hours thoughts of all of your decisions until this present moment filled all corners of your mind and the walls of your cell. Thoughts of your parents, leaving Chandrilla, Val and Carmen. Torin. The First Order. This galaxy that seemed to be on the brink of collapse. Other options seemed better than this. Maybe you could end this before they came to interrogate you, at least then it would be on your terms and it would take away the satisfaction from him. But everything in the room was curved and there were only the clothes on your back to aid in ending the suffering. It was useless. You would have to wait it out and slowly descend into madness. But maybe, that was what they wanted. You had spent a long time laying on the ground, a long time thinking about Val and Carmen. Carmen. The crack of her body hitting the ground echoed in your ears, bounced around your skull. Her body being dragged away. And you. You just laying there, choking on your own saliva, doing nothing. Doing nothing but trying to die.

You had tried screaming. Screaming so long that your throat became hoarse, and even then, continued until your screams grew silent. But no one came, the food continued to arrive through the slot in the door. But no soul ever opened that door. It was enough, you thought. It was enough. There was no escaping this reality, you could do nothing right. You parent were right when they said that you were nothing, that you were useless to them. To end up in the hands of the First Order confirmed that.

His comment to you had troubled your mind for some time, and you had all the time in the world to ponder it. The Resistance. That you had been apart of the Resistance. Why had he even thought that? You had no affiliations other than the Chandrillan Senate, but even that was a stretch. Though, Chandrilla is known for aiding the Resistance, but that did not mean that you were one of them. How had he gathered the connection? You thought him too smart to just assume, he must have something, some evidence to show for his comments? All the thoughts in your mind were bringing on a headache. You gently laid on your cot, turning to stare at the door. You could try and sleep maybe, you were exhausted. You closed your eyes and tried to imagine the beaches on Chandrilla, their silky blue waters, the sand passing through your toes, coarse and cold. It had never felt more like home now. You missed it, and maybe, you had taken it for granted.

Pressure released from in front of you, the door hissing opening. Your eyes flew open and you stood, astounded that after all this time the doors had opened. Two storm troopers were waiting at the entrance, blasters aimed low.

“Move it.” The voice modulator crackled as the command entered the small space.

“What, like walk to you, or…?” This was your first personal encounter with a storm trooper, what were you supposed to do? The storm trooper flicked his gun to the right. Ah, move it suddenly made sense. You slowly walked to them, the unspeaking one gripped your arm once you were within reach, pulling you with them as you left your little box behind. Finally, you had a chance to figure out where you were. There was nothing distinguishing about the hall you were passing through, other than the vastness of the ceiling space and the glassed-in viewing room looking out over the hall. Similar doors to yours lined the walls, their bulking steel clearly impenetrable. Your throat tightened a little at the realisation that this was a prison block and there were most likely other people behind those many doors. Maybe Carmen and Val were in the same area as you?

“So, is this where you keep all the prisoners?” You felt a blaster plunge into your ribs.

“Shut your mouth, Rebel scum.”

You gritted your teeth, you were not _Rebel scum_. You wanted to hiss the words back at them, but you needed information and pissing off the guards wouldn’t assist you in that endeavour. At a minimum, you at least wanted to know where you were being taken. You watched the hall end at another door, and that door leading to another hall, and another. Everything looked so similar. The only thing that changed was the population of people in the areas increased the further we moved away from the prison block. The ship seemed to grow darker as you passed through another section, you turned your head to see large glass panels, the galaxy beckoning you. You couldn’t help the thoughts that trickled in, it was such a waste. What you had done, you had wasted the only opportunity you had, and now, you would most likely die having never seen that galaxy and the freedom it now teased you with. You lowered your head to the floor, watching yourself stumble at the uneven pace you were walking at. It was hard to not feel foolish at this moment. To feel that you had given up everything run away from everything you knew only to end up here. The universe and the gods must have been against you.

You could feel the stares before you even had to raise your head. You could feel their disdain for you, their contempt. It was palpable enough that you could almost reach out and touch it, like some kind of tangible field. When you did lift you eyes from the floor, you took them in. Their uniforms similar to those of the fallen Empire, straight and clean cut. It was almost frightening how indistinguishable they all were, they really did all look the same. But maybe that was the point, no individuality, just control and organisation, how dreadful. They whispered among themselves as you passed by with looks of disdain and a weird type of delight. There weren’t many options of why they would move you from your cell, unless it was for questioning. And like a star exploding, the anxiety dawned on you. Were you being taken to him? His threat echoed through your ears, how eerily calm his voice was. _You should fear me. I will pull every Resistance plan from your mind before I am finished with you._

“Where are you taking me?” Your voice became unsteady, your calm confidence disintegrating rapidly. The troopers didn’t answer, but you heard the unspeaking one slightly chuckle and the other, you felt him stiffen. You didn’t really need an answer after that, the air about them confirmed your thoughts as much. Your whole body seemed to become very heavy and you were glad that the unspeaking storm trooper was dragging you, bearing some of your weight while he pulled you to your doom. Because you couldn’t bring yourself to have the energy to march toward it, you knew that it would not be a quick death. You could tell from the way Kylo Ren’s voice had shaped the words of that threat, he was going to take pleasure in breaking you, and it would be slow, so very slow.

You were suddenly pulled to the left through another corridor, it was completely devoid of people and the quiet hummed in your ears, the boots of the storm troopers so loud compared to your bare feet. There was only one door in this section, and you were headed straight for it at the end of the hall. The hall seemed to get smaller as the door loomed closer and soon you were stopping in front of it, your end. It opened sharply, the room bare other than an empty chair. It wasn’t the type of chair that evoked feelings of comfort. It was slightly vertical with no contours for the pleasure of one’s body. There were so many contraptions attached to it with metal braces ready to restrain you. Tears stung at your eyes. You knew what it was, but you didn’t have the courage to bring forward to words in your mind. You could feel so much pain, the pain that so many people had screamed into the walls, that had fallen on unyielding ears. It scratched under your skin and burned into your chest. You would meet the same fate as they had, your screams joining theirs in forgotten misery.

The storm troopers pulled you further into the room, you could feel yourself digging your feet into the floor. You didn’t want this. You hadn’t bargained for this. You just wanted to leave Chandrilla, you hadn’t agreed to this much. You began to thrash, so uncontrollably. The storm troopers commanded you to stop, that they would shoot you, that they would hurt you. But you didn’t care, their threats meant nothing, anything, anything but this. Anything but that chair. The storm troopers dragged you now as you kicked and screamed so loud you hoped he could hear you, that it would crack that hideous black mask. You felt a blaster connect with your face, pain thundered across your jaw, blood filling your mouth, slowly dripping from your lips. What the storm trooper did had worked though, you had dropped to the floor, grasping at your mouth, too occupied with the pain and shock to continue to fight them. Quickly you were hoisted onto the chair and the braces locked over your wrists and ankles. Having completed their task, you watched them turn and leave, the only trace that you had been with them was your blood that was splattered across the unspeaking one’s chest plate. No one else would know that you were here, other than them. And him.

You were alone then as you watched the door hiss shut. The room was rather average other than the hideous chair. There was nothing that you could find to really focus on, to distract yourself, other than the markings in the walls. A cube-like surface. But it didn’t stop the ringing that had started in your ears. Your earlier thoughts were right, that these walls had seen so much pain and suffering. Now that you were alone with no real distractions, the feelings returned. It hurt to breathe. You could feel everything. The panic, the pain, the sorrow. You could feel the wish to die, to end it, to feel nothing more. You tensed against your restraints, pushing against the metal, testing its power. You needed to get out of here, now.

“Trying to escape already?” A voice echoed from behind you. You stilled, your thoughts quieting to nothingness, body humming. There was no mistaking that voice, that presence, he had been here the whole time. The room had been lightly illuminated casting shadows in the corners. You had been so occupied with the storm troopers and the chair that you didn’t scan the room, didn’t see him hidden against the wall, watching you. Panic began to rise in your throat, you were going to be sick.

“Now, where to begin.” The shuffle of his clothes alerted you that he was moving. You watched as he appeared in your vision. You hadn’t really absorbed his presence the last time you had seen him. He was tall, and well, large. He held his shoulders with pride, not a pride that indicated worth of self. No, it was power. You squeezed your fingernails into your palm, the dread spreading through your body. Of course he was powerful, you saw what he had done to Carmen. It didn’t even look like it took him any effort. He continued to slowly stalk you, like a predator sizing up its prey. And you were prey to the likes of him. You closed your eyes and tried to imagine that beach again, to calm the thrumming of your heart in your chest, to be somewhere else even if it were only for a moment. Anywhere but here. You tried to imagine that sand in between your toes, the waves crashing to shore. It was quiet. Blissfully silent. He had stilled, you couldn’t hear the clack of his boots against the floor.

“I see it. The beach.” His voice was quiet. “You miss it.” Your eyes snapped open to see his hand outstretched to your face, a small pressure was blooming under your skull. It hurt, like heat growing more intense by the minute.

“Tell me, where are you from?” He began circling again, hand still outstretched to you. You remained silent. The pressure increased, burning brighter than before.

“What are you doing to me?” You spat through gritted teeth. You could hear his faint chuckle as you felt your head being pulled from the chair toward his outstretched hand.

“I am doing exactly what I said I would do to you.” He paused for a moment, “I am taking everything.” That didn’t answer your question, but you guessed from the pressure in your head that he was burrowing his way into your mind. And you could feel it, like a sharp needle to the brain.

“Why tell you anything…” You stammered through gritted teeth, watching as his fingers flexed together and the elastic band around your mind growing unbearable, “when you can just see it!” You screamed, the fire in your mind now ablaze.

“Clever girl.” The pain subsided, his hand dropping to his side. “Chandrilla. That’s where you’re from.” He stated dully, the last view of Hanna City flashed across your mind, the sunset against the clouds of pink and amber, it was beautiful. No one really talked about Leia Organa in Chandrilla now, not after…him. You knew that he was Leia Organa’s son and that Chandrilla was as much his home as it was yours. That was as much as you knew, that he was Ben Solo before he was Kylo Ren. You were alive when he was still a child in Chandrilla. You wondered what his life had been like there, how it had been so terrible that he had become this.

“Well, surely you of all people would recognise that beach in my mind.” The words came out sharper than you had intended. He stopped again, fist-clenching, pain returning.

“That place means nothing to me.” His words were cold and eerily distant. He was wrong. To elicit that response, he was lying. _Pathetic._ You let the words ring bright in your mind, eyes locking with his mask. _Weak._ You screamed, your body coiled off the chair, toes curling into themselves. Tears had begun to fall down your face and neck, a slick of sweat forming against your skin. He hadn’t even questioned you for very long, but you already didn’t know how much more of this you could take.

“No more games,” he hissed having moved close to your face, mask inches away. “You will give me everything.” You felt him step deep into your mind then like lightning striking. Your eyes rolled back into your head as flashes of memory were being forced forward. You when you were small, your parents when they were happy, your brother when he was alive. You watched your schooling with the Senate, the anguish when Torin passed, your parents turning away from you. It hurt so much, not just the physical agony, but the feelings being brought back to life, things that you had buried deep inside yourself. He was seeing it all, seeing you. It felt like you were breaking apart from the inside out.

Suddenly there was a pause, a momentary break in the memory reel where time slowed. A haze poured over you, your vision blurry. You were back in the library with your brother, standing in anticipation, him placing his book down on the desk and running his fingers through his hair. He seemed so alive, like you could reach out and touch him and he would feel warm under your fingertips.

“Sit, my little Senator.” The words, they echoed louder in your mind than you remembered. You sat waiting as the silence grew, his smile changing, the image of Torin shifting. His red hair began turning dark and growing to his shoulders, his nose fine and pointed reshaping to another’s, lips thin becoming plump and smooth, moles appearing on his face that had been free of such things. Soon it was no longer Torin sitting opposite you in the chair, leaning back with his hands resting against the back of his neck. It was Kylo Ren.

“My little Senator.” He crooned, moving then, spreading his hands wide across the desk, raising himself to lean towards you. You could feel the scream bubbling in your throat, but before it could be released, you were back in the chair on the ship.

“You were part of the Chandrillan Senate” the words almost danced off his tongue in some kind of sick humour. The pain in your head had mellowed again, he clearly wanted you to have the ability to speak.

“No, I wasn’t.” Your voice was a mere whisper, exhaustion beginning to seize you. It was true, you had been trained but never sworn in. You could feel the tension rising in him again.

“Don’t lie to me.” The voice modulator crackled as he spoke slowly with controlled rage.

“I am not lying to you, didn’t you just see?” The question hung on your lips. You twisted your head to the side, resting your cheek on the cold metal, the sweat of your face becoming icy from the contact.

“My parents are, but I have not been sworn into office.” You were frustrated now. You didn’t have a reason to lie, you had every reason to tell the truth and be freed from this place. He began circling again, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

“Then how did you come to join the Resistance?” You imagined his face matched his voice under that hideous mask, cocky and challenging. You felt the fire of anger flaring in your belly. Suddenly your face was moving without touch, meeting his gaze, his hand outstretched again.

“I am not affiliated with the Resistance.” Yes, you believed in their cause, but you had never once thought of joining their ranks. You felt the pressure building under your skull again.

“Then how did you come to be in their company?” Gritted teeth again, you could hear it through the modulator. He moved then, stopping inches away from your face. You felt your stomach lurch into your throat, nausea churning. He was so close that you could now see the fine scratches in the metalwork of his mask. But worse through the visor, you could see the outline of his eyes. You wondered if the fire of his demeanour flickered in those two irises that bored into your own. You remained silent, fixated on what lay beneath the mask. _Pain._ The words pulsed in your mind. That’s what laid there, deep behind the mask, under the garb. _Emptiness._ You watched those eyes blink suddenly, almost flinching.

“Tell me, how you and that crew managed to steal highly encrypted schematics of this ship!” He roared, the pressure in your mind exploding. It was so painful that you couldn’t even scream, your body losing all sense of self. Whimpers escaped softly through your lips, saliva slipping down your jaw. Even if you wanted to tell him, you couldn’t find the muscles to your mouth to speak. Couldn’t he just look inside you again? _Just take it, take it all. Make it stop._ And it did stop, you watched as he flicked his wrist and the room fell to blackness.

* * *

The crack of your skull against the edge of your cot pulled you back into the now. The blow ricocheted through your whole body. You watched as the two storm troopers who had thrown you back into your cell retreated from the room, the blast door closing quick behind them. But not quick enough for you to hear “Rebel scum” being muttered.

You laid there for a while, unmoving as the room continued to spin, the impact on your head aching deeply. Slowly you adjusted yourself to a sitting position, placing your fingers to the back of your head. You hoped that the skin wasn’t broken, but the warm slick didn’t make you hopeful. You brought your hand back to view, red wetness coating the area. You could feel it dripping down your neck now, the warmness sending a shiver down your spine. You quickly removed your shirt and placed it with pressure to your head. It would have to do, even if it hadn’t been washed since you had left Chandrilla. With your other free hand, you pushed yourself up to stand, making your way to the door. The little slot for food would be your only chance to communicate with the guards outside. You knelt in front of the little flap, pushing it open to see the hall.

“Hey, anyone there? I’m injured.” There was of course no reply. You sighed, feeling your top becoming warm and wet. You had to think of something to get them to open the door.

“Hey, I’m bleeding pretty bad here. Do you want Kylo Ren’s prisoner to bleed out?” More you needed more.

“He’s not finished questioning me. You don’t want to be responsible for my death. I have more information to provide him.” You were met with nothing but silence. You dropped your fingers from the flap and laid back down on the floor. You knew you weren’t going to die and that you would clot eventually, but anywhere would be better than staying in this cell.

It did give you time to think through. Why hadn’t he continued questioning you? He hadn’t finished his interrogation, you knew that much. Could it have been his rage, that he couldn’t control it? In those last moments you could feel it, such hatred, but mostly, frustration. He wanted to kill you and he would have if he hadn’t stopped himself. You don’t know how long you laid there, shirt pressed against your skull. But the doors finally opened, two stormtroopers with blasters at the ready gripped your arms. You were pulled up from the ground, shirt falling to the floor heavy, thoroughly blood-soaked.

“We are taking you to the medical bay.” They began to march you through the hall again, this time in the opposite direction as when you had been taken to Kylo Ren. It suddenly dawned on you, that you were only wearing a bra as you made your way to the medical bay and you felt a wave of heat rush over your face.

“Do you have a shirt you could give me to cover up?” You pleaded, only to be met with a blaster to the stomach. Clearly, you would not be provided a shirt and that parading around the ship in your bra it was to be.

The layout of this section was much the same as the other, but maybe it just looked all the same to you. You thought what a spectacle it would be for crew, seeing you being marched through the halls wearing nothing but a bra and your pants. You could feel the blood that was seeping down your neck and leaving a trail on your back. What a scene, you would have looked positively savage. You watched them stare, one dropping her datapad on the floor, scurrying to collect it as though she didn't want the others to see how it had affected her. You imagined they would be questioning each other, they all had that competitive edge about them.

Once you had finally reached it, the med bay seemed larger than you had imagined. You would describe it to be more of a wing than a bay. Quickly, you were cuffed to the nearest cot and left, without a word. With your free hand, you seated yourself on the mattress and waited for the attendant. A small glint in your periphery caught your attention. It was a mirror. You hadn't seen yourself in days, though it felt longer than that. You reached for the small object, nervously. You wondered whether your time here had already left its marks, how badly it had. With closed eyes, you held the mirror toward your face, gripping the frame tightly. A moment passed and you finally gained the courage to open your eyes.

You barely recognised your features in the mirror, it was a though another person inhabited you completely. Your face was marred with soot from the smoke on Val's cruiser. Your lip was split, dried blood from the wound stuck to your chin and trickled down your neck. A large bruise had formed in the area, spreading all the way to your jaw and cheek. Dark circles had taken over your eyes and your face overall looked drawn. You had lost some weight which was troubling, the lack of constant nutrition visible now. And your hair. You really did look savage, you looked exactly like what they called you, Rebel scum. A stark contrast to the almost Senator that had left Chandrilla only some time ago. Could you even be her anymore after this, she felt too far away to reach for?

You felt a presence enter the room and dropped the mirror to the mattress. The instinct of being punished had already begun to become a part of you, anxiety swirling in your gut. A woman had entered the space, datapad in hand and a tray of instruments resting on her other arm. You expected a droid to attend you, not a person. As she approached, you noticed that her uniform was different to the other officers you had seen, grey rather than black and less stiff. She was also free of the hats you had seen most officers wearing, her hazelnut hair braided past her shoulders. She placed the tray in its allocated space next to the cot.

"Okay, what do we have here?" She glanced up from her datapad. Her eyes widened suddenly at your appearance, but she rained in her composure quickly. "Well, looks like you need a little work.” She clicked her tongue, “maybe a bit more than a little."

You twisted your fingers in and out of each other, she was nice and you weren't prepared for that. Fight or flight had become so normal now, you anticipated the battle to survive. She looked over her datapad again.

"You’re a prisoner here." She peered down at the shackle. It was less of a question and more of a statement. You were sure they were building a whole file on you. You remained silent, the cuff around your wrist gently clanging against the cot. Silence was better, the less they knew about you the better.

"I'll get you to lie back for me so that I can work on you." She paused for a moment and looked over you, her face seeming torn. "And I'll see about organising the use of a refresher for you."

Slowly, you leaned back against the mattress, relief purring its way over your mind, it was comfortable against your sore and aching body. She seemed different than the other members of the First Order that you had dealt with, and even then, your comparison was rather limited. You didn't think you could experience any type of kindness here and the thought of feeling it frightened you. Fear of receiving only to have it ripped away again.

Her gloved fingers lightly brushed your hair away, her other hand wiping the dirt from your face. It was nice. The coolness of the cloth she used, with whatever substance it contained, was soothing. Too soothing, so much so you felt yourself wanting to sleep.

"It's relaxing isn't it?" She smiled, her blue eyes twinkling at you. You nodded slightly.

"I could tell you were enjoying it." You heard her drop the cloth against the tray, ripping into a packet.

"Well, at least your face is clean from the dirt. Now the blood." Her smile tensed for a moment. "This may be uncomfortable."

She placed the material across your chin, in slow dragging motions. She was right, it was uncomfortable. But once she reached your lip, the burning was much, much worse.

"It’s burning." You announced, voice filling the silence, eyes meeting hers. And they widened in surprise.

"Yes. Yes it will burn. That means it’s working." She winked at you, a smile dancing at the edges of her lips. The pain continued, sharp pain as she tugged around the split in your lip. She dropped the cloth into the tray.

"Okay, I'm going to need to stitch this now. I'm sorry, but they won't let us use the droids for prisoners. But I promise you’re in good hands." She reached for another packet on her tray. You watched as she retrieved a hooked needle and thread. You felt yourself shiver, which didn't go unnoticed.

"It's okay, that cloth I used would have numbed you by now." You tested your lip, pressing your tongue to the inside section. She was right, it was numb.

"I'm ready." You said, louder than you had before, trying to convince yourself that you were braver than you were. She came at you with the needle then, not pausing for a moment to let you reconsider. Even though you were numb, it hadn’t fully reduced the sensations or the pain. She tugged back and forth, tightening the stitch on each pass. You tightened your fingers around the mattress as you could feel the needle enter and exit your flesh. But you kept still, it was your face after all.

"And we're done, well, with that one. Onto your scalp."

You hadn't realised that the blood had stopped tricking down your back. You were surprised she hadn't tended to that wound first.

"Why didn't you do that cut first, the one on my scalp I mean." She stopped fiddling with her equipment and turned to you.

"Well, I noticed the wound had clotted when I looked over you. And well, worst thing last I say." She winked at you again, surely she was kidding with that last part. Nausea swept over you at the thought of the worst thing. She gently pressed her fingers to your skull, turning your head slightly.

"Well, it doesn't need stitches, just some glue should do the trick. But I'm going to need to clean it first." She removed one of her hands, the other keeping your head in place while she retrieved another packet, pulling it open to reveal another cloth. She began brushing across the site, burning taking over again. But soon it was numb, and she began gluing you back together. In more ways than just fixing your scalp.

"Done. Now just stay in that position for about ten minutes while the glue sets. Sleep maybe?" Your eyes grew wide, you couldn't sleep here, in the open. You felt safer sleeping in your cell than here. Her eyes tightened slightly.

"No one is going to hurt you here, I promise." She placed her hand on your free one then, gripping it. "Sleep."

"Why are you being so kind to me?" Your voice was low as you focused your eyes on hers, the blue sparking. She loosened her hand then, freeing you.

"I treated you," she paused for a moment, "when your first arrived aboard the Supremacy." She turned to fiddle with her equipment, breaking your gaze. "You were here for at least six days."

You were quiet then, lost for words. You now knew where you were and time seemed to be fitting in, like pieces being placed into a puzzle.

"How long have I been here in total? There's no sense of time in that cell, I can't, I don't know..." you trailed. She flicked at her datapad for a moment.

"I can see from your intake records that you've been here for 11 days." You felt tears forming in your eyes, it had felt longer than that.

"Please, just rest a little. I'll be back for you soon." She touched your shoulder as she collected her tray and made her way deeper into the ward. You closed your eyes for a moment, just a moment of rest. Just a moment. You could hear the rattle of her tray, the shifting of her feet, the sound of your breathing. It was all becoming distant, fainter in your mind. And soon you felt yourself drift away.

It was the slight pressure on your shoulder that woke you up, your eyes flicking open, panic rising in you.

"It’s just me." Her hand squeezed you again in reassurance. "Now how about that refresher." You left the breath you were holding out and smiled.

"If it’s not too much trouble, I would appreciate that." She retrieved a metal card from her jacket pocket with her free hand, passing it across your cuffed wrist. The binding fell open with a loud click.

"Alright, this way, follow me." You rose from the cot, instinctively rubbing your now freed wrist. Tentatively you followed her, moving further into the ward, rounding a corner to a cubicle with a sliding door, the glass partition privatised. Excitement danced in your stomach, you hadn't used a refresher in nearly two weeks it seemed, and you were desperate for one. Even your own smell made you feel sick, and not made you feel unlike yourself. It would be nice to feel just a little bit like you again.

"Everything you need is in there, including a fresh set of clothes." She placed her hand on your back and pushed you toward the opening. "Take your time." You turned to her then, a wide smile growing across your features and tears forming in your eyes.

"Thank you. Thank you for your kindness." You hoped that she could feel your sincerity. She smiled and gently pushed you again toward the door of the refresher.

"No thanks needed." You placed your hand on the handle and slid open the door. It was a generously sized refresher and, as she had said, contained everything. You moved into the space then, closing the door behind you and stripping out of your clothes. Even though they were torn now and smelt awful, you wished you could have them cleaned and could re-wear them. Just to have some part of you remain from before, from before here. You placed them in the slot to your left, knowing they'd be incinerated now. You reached for the control panel, setting the water pressure and temperature. It was sublime. The water hit your back with a force that you had forgotten, the heat unwinding the tightness in your neck and spine. You stood there for a while, just stretching your limbs in the warm water and then sitting on the floor, letting to water envelope you. It was heavenly. You rose to your feet after some time and began methodically washing your hair and scrubbing your body, letting the suds grow think in your hair and skin. You watched as the water ran grey and felt disgusted. You washed yourself again, until you saw the water run clear. You rummaged through the interior, no razer, which was unfortunate. But you were done now.

You turned off the water and opened a nearby packet that was now speckled with water droplets. The towel you retrieved was surprisingly soft. You slowly dried yourself, running the towel through your hair, your body, all the way down to your toes. You placed the towel in the slot, stuffing it in and then opened another packet containing clothing. It was black, all the clothes were mostly black. You felt yourself cringe and hoped that they were at least your size. The undergarments were slightly loose on you, but everything else seemed to fit as you maneuvered yourself into them. The pants were a tight leather type material and the top was a cashmere tight fit with long sleeves, cut off just at the waist. You also pulled out a thick asymmetrical stiff jacket and boots. You were thankful that at least the jacket was grey and not black too. You shifted your arms into the garment. It was long, stopping just above your knees, the material slightly fuzzy, but warm. It didn't cover your arms though, just your shoulders, no buttons either. You slipped on the black boots which were a tad tight for your feet, but you hoped that they would stretch after time. You looked at yourself then. It surprised you, other than needing to brush your wild hair, you looked like yourself again. The redness of your lip jumped out at you, the stitches protruding from the site. You lifted your finger to touch it and stopped yourself not wanting to cause infection. It looked terrible and would most likely feel like that under your touch. You moved to brushing your teeth and readying yourself to comb through your mane. You placed some hair oil through the sections that had become slightly matted and hoped for the best, reefing the comb through until your hair was free of knots. You placed to comb on the small bench and then were finished, wet hair sticking to the back of your jacket. You turned to the refresher door, gingerly sliding it open, taking on last look at yourself when you stepped out. She was waiting for you as you shut the door behind you.

"Thank you for that." She smiled and lifted her datapad, bringing it to life.

"Okay, well you're all done here. You're all set for travel later today. Take these pills with you, those wounds are going to ache." Her words seemed to evaporate. Travel. You felt your face drop as she placed the small bottle in your hand, clasping your fingers around it.

"Travel?" You whispered. She fell quiet then, looking at the datapad once more. The silence felt long before she spoke again.

"Yes, your're being transported off ship to our main base." You looked at her confused.

"I don't know. I don't..." You felt your chest growing tighter, heaving, it was becoming harder to breathe.

"Starkiller base." Too quickly, two stormtroopers rounded the corner of the ward and approached you both.

"When?" You stated quickly. She blinked at your sudden tone.

"In a few hours." Her voice was quiet now.

"What about the others?" You gripped her arms then and she squeaked, the tablets in your bottle bouncing against the container. What about Carmen and Val?

"I'm, I'm not sure yet." Useless. Utterly useless. The storm troopers reached you then, pulling your hands from her.

"We are returning her to the cells. Is she fit for travel?" The trooper waited for her reply. You hoped that she would say no, that you could stay here, even if it was for just a little longer. You needed to find Carmen and Val.

"Yes, she's fit for travel." Oddly, you felt betrayed, as though your time together should have meant something to her, as it had for you. Her face fell though as the troopers began to pull you away. You dug your feet in and turned your head back to her. You weren't leaving without knowing one thing.

"What's your name?" You bellowed down the wing as you were pulled closer to the exit.

"Ayde, my name is Ayde." She yelled back to you, her name filling the room.

"I'm Y/N. Thank you Ayde." You felt a blaster strike your ribs. But you didn't let that stop you, not this time.

"I won't forget!" It was the last thing you cried out to her before the doors of the ward hissed closed behind you. You wouldn't forget her kindness, even if you were now deemed fit for travel. You were soon back in the prison bay. The doors of the cells passing by as you made it toward your own. Three figures began to come into view from the other end of the hall. Two troopers and what appeared to be another prisoner. You drew closer, as you both moved through the hall. The figure grew clearer and clearer the nearer you got. It was a woman, her hair tightly braided on her head, although loose in some sections, the red chestnut striking even from here. It was Carmen. You were so close now, could she see you?

"Carmen." You screamed. You felt the troopers grip you tighter. You wrestled at their hands.

"Shut your mouth." One said, while the other reached for cuffs. But it was too late. Carmen had lifted her head and locked eyes with you. The fire in them bright enough for you to see. Her face looked swollen, eyes bruised, you noticed as she moved closer. She kept quiet though and kept advancing with her escort. She was within touching distance now and suddenly she pulled her arms from the grasp of her escorts and gripped you tightly.

"You okay?" Her expression shifted from non-recognition to concern so quickly it made your mind flip.

"Yes, you?" The troopers were attempting to pull you both apart, but Carmen’s grip was strong, painful even.

"Yes, yes I'm okay. Val’s here too." He was alive. You felt tears forming, but there was no time for that.

"I'm being moved." Your voice broke on those words. The storm troopers finally broke Carmen’s grip, pulling her from you.

"Starkiller." You screamed as they dragged you both apart and further away. You writhed under them, kicking your legs.

"Hang in their kid!" She screamed back. "You're more than they'll ever be or know." No, no. They couldn't take her again. Please.

"Please, no!" Your screaming was uncontrollable now.

"You're okay, Y/N. You'll be okay!" You heard the hiss of a door open and close. She was gone.

A sharp pain shot through you then and all movement stopped as you ceased on the floor. Electricity, they'd shocked you. When it seemed that the currents had passed out of your body, the troopers grabbed your arms and pulled you to your cell. You let them, defeat swallowing you. You heard the hiss of your cell open as the troopers paused. They at least let you crawl in instead of throwing you this time. You placed your cheek on the cool floor as the door closed behind you, the lock echoing through the space. Soon, you'd be leaving, collected from this cell one final time. You hadn't heard of Starkiller base, but with a name like that it felt ominous. You wondered what awaited you there and more worryingly, would he be going too? Would Carmen and Val? You knew they hadn't finished with you and the thought set bouts of nausea through you. You wondered what more they wanted from you. But from what Kylo Ren had intimated, the Resistance stole schematics for this ship, successfully, you didn't know. You lifted yourself from the floor and sat on you bed, facing the door. You crossed your legs and arms, staring it down. You would wait for them to come for you. Carmen’s words echoed in your mind. You were more than they would ever be or know. You could be strong, you would have to be to get through this. You felt the memory of your dream with Torin, his sentiments blending with Carmen’s. They were right. You needed to become more than you had been on Chandrilla. You needed to become fierce, burning brighter than the fire and embers of that ship that the First Order had pulled you from. So now you waited, the flame in your gut stoked and ready, power blossoming there. Let them come, you took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, a quiet calm washing over you. You were ready, and you welcomed whatever would now come your way, you had nothing left to lose, nothing left to break and that, that was power itself. _Come._ You let the words echo out of you into the universe. _I dare you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The First Order better watch out, Y/N is just getting started!


End file.
